Fresh Air
by borogroves
Summary: SPOILERS FOR 3x14.  He can just be himself, and it feels like that first gulp of fresh air after holding your breath for too long.


**Disclaimer:** I neither own nor claim to own anything related to Glee (only Darren Criss, and only in my dreams). This story is for entertainment only, and is not endorsed by anyone affiliated with Glee and/or its parent company. Unbeta'd; all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Fresh Air<strong>

"Enough to make you toss your cookies, isn't it?"

Dave looks up at the source of the smooth, sarcastic voice and sees the guy fromScandals, the one who's been so cruel—Sam? Seth?—holding two cups of coffee and looking over to where Kurt and Blaine are huddled together at their usual table, talking in low voices and staring deeply into one another's eyes. He lets out a wistful sigh and lets his gaze drop to the table. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your hook-up or whatever?"

The guy smiles when Dave looks back up, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

Dave briefly closes his eyes, grip tightening knuckle-white on the worn edge of the table. "I'm having a real _shitty_ week."

"I heard," comes the quiet reply, and Dave lets out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah, you and everyone else in this damn town. Everyone knows I'm just another Lima loser. So get it over with, okay? Just... Whatever crap you're gonna give me, just get it over with."

A long moment passes, and Dave starts to feel uncomfortable under the suspense of the other boy's gaze. Then the cups of coffee are set down on the table and an outstretched hand appears in front of him.

"Hi," he says when Dave tentatively chances a look. His smile is genuine, and kind of attractive in a toothy, movie-star way. "I'm Sebastian Smythe. Call me Seb, if you want."

"Seb," Dave repeats flatly, and Sebastian laughs.

"Point taken," he says, sheepishly pulling back his unshaken hand. "Some of the guys started using it after Regionals. I don't think it really suits me."

"They your friends, now? 'Cause in your YouTube videos they look more like minions."

"You watched our videos?"

"Not much else to do on seventy-two-hour watch."

Sebastian takes the opportunity to gesture to the chair opposite Dave, who takes a deep breath and nods. Sebastian sits down quickly, almost like he thinks Dave will change his mind, and he smiles a small and grateful smile. When he takes a sip of his coffee, he watches Dave over the plastic lid.

"It's weird," he admits, setting his cup back down and focusing on it as he turns it on the aged Formica, "having friends instead of followers. Having people respect you out of choice instead of fear."

"I don't know what that's like," Dave says when it becomes clear that Sebastian is waiting for a response. It occurs to him that he and Sebastian could be not entirely dissimilar.

"What about Kurt?"

"He feels sorry for me and he's trying to help. It's different."

"Yours isn't actually coffee. I didn't know your coffee order, so I got you hot chocolate," Sebastian says quickly, rushing over his words and pushing the cup towards Dave.

"What is all this?" Dave finally asks, the heat from the cup warming his fingers. For a time, the only sounds are the chatter of the baristas and the sharp hiss of the cappuccino machine. Sebastian swallows hard, suddenly looking like the teenager he is.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Dave," he begins, leaning forward on his elbows and clasping his hands together. "The things I said to you that night at Scandals... I feel sick. No one should have to hear things like—like what I said. It's not a game; it's real life and real people and real... real pain. I can't even begin to tell you how disgusted I am with myself."

Dave lets out a shaking breath, then squares his jaw and forces himself to look Sebastian in the eye. "Thanks," he says, and finds that he means it. Since his suicide attempt—he hates referring to it so bluntly, but Dr Browne keeps telling him that he needs to be more honest, take more ownership—he's been surprising himself a lot. He extends his hand towards Sebastian. "I'm David Karofsky. Most people call me Dave."

"Great to meet you," Sebastian replies, relief evident in his tone as he shakes his hand. Dave thinks, just for a moment, that his skin is nearly as soft and yielding as Kurt's.

Somehow, two hours pass and neither of them notice when Kurt and Blaine leave with a conspiratorial glance at one another. Sebastian asks Dave which team he's backing and the slightly awkward conversation becomes something else entirely; a heated yet friendly debate, ribbing each other good-naturedly about their teams' past failures. It doesn't escape Sebastian's attention how Dave's entire being seems to animate when he talks about his dream of becoming a sports agent, and he can't help but burst out laughing when Dave tells him the story of Kurt teaching the football team to dance.

"Do you still remember it?" he asks when he finally catches his breath.

"I think I blocked it out, but here," Dave replies, and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his videos before handing it over. Halfway through, Sebastian's barely staying on his seat.

"Which jersey are you?" he manages to choke out.

"Seventy-seven," Dave says, realizing that he feels more at ease with Sebastian than he has done with anybody, in a very long time. He can just be himself, and it feels like that first gulp of fresh air after holding your breath for too long.

"Seriously?" Sebastian asks incredulously.

"Husky guy's got moves," Dave says, his confidence growing; confidence enough to try a little flirting, even. It's completely harmless, and not like Sebastian would be interested in him anyway—the things he'd said back at Scandals had been apologized for, but rang in Dave's ears nonetheless—which didn't actually make him feel as bad as he'd thought it might.

So lost is Dave in his thoughts that he almost—almost—doesn't see the way Sebastian quirks an eyebrow and rakes his gaze across Dave's body in an appreciative way. But he does see it, and the earlier awkwardness stretches the inches between them into feet, yards, miles.

"So—"

"So—"

It's so terrible and cliché that they both laugh, and Dave glances at the time on his phone as he accepts it back from Sebastian.

"I'd better get home."

"Sure, let's go," Sebastian says quickly, standing up and hooking his bag over his shoulder.

"My dad's had me on a pretty short leash since... Well. You know," Dave offers by way of explanation. He can say it to himself and to his therapist but somehow not to Sebastian, who is even walking differently under the weight of his own guilt. The douchebag swagger is gone, replaced by hunching shoulders and downcast eyes. It doesn't suit him.

They walk outside in a fairly companionable silence, and stop a few feet from Dave's truck.

"So, um..." Sebastian trails off, turning over a small white card in his hands before holding it out to Dave. "My info, just in case you ever need somebody to talk to or a place to go if things get too much."

Dave stares at the card for a few seconds, taking in the simple design and classic typeface that spell out a name, email address and cell number. Finding his voice, he holds it up between his first two fingers. "A business card?"

Sebastian blinks, and _okay, that must be the meaning of the word facepalm_, Dave thinks. "Oh god, that's so douchey, isn't it? How am I only seeing this now?"

Dave grins widely and pockets the card.

"I should probably keep you around to call me on all my bullshit," Sebastian says quietly, catching Dave's gaze and holding it.

"There's a lot of bullshit to call," he shoots back tightly, suddenly all kinds of nervous.

"Yeah, that's... That's pretty accurate. But I'm working on it."

"Good."

"So, anyway. Answer me one question."

"Sure."

"What's your coffee order?" Sebastian asks charismatically, a winning smile bracketing the question.

Dave rolls his eyes and laughs as he climbs into his truck and starts the engine. "Ask me next time," he quips, pulling out. "Later, Seb."

"'Til next time!" Sebastian calls, and Dave watches him in the rear view mirror, standing in the same spot.

"Husky guy's got moves," he says to himself, and takes in a deep breath of fresh air.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Fear not, _Snapshots_ readers—Sebofsky will not be getting in the way of my baby! This is just a one-shot, a little thing that grabbed me after THAT scene in 3.14. Thanks for reading!


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